Iron Dad One Shots (mcu)

Good Things Fall Apart

A/N: MAJOR ENDGAME SPOILERS. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
This was more venting than anything but I thought it was good enough to post. Let me know if I'm wrong lmao.

***

It wasn't news that Peter Parker had lost a lot in his life.

He lost his parents when he was 6. When a small, doe-eyed child watched his parents leave and never come back. When he asked May and Ben when they'd be back, everyday, for months. Because they had to come back. They wouldn't just abandon their little boy. They couldn't.

And yet.

He lost his innocence a few months later. On the day he learned what dead really meant.

How could life be so cruel to a kid? He didn't ask for this. He really, really didn't. Sometimes he just wanted to hide in his room until he was dead. Because if he was dead, at least everything wouldn't hurt so bad.

It wasn't always terrible, though.

He lost his loneliness when he was 8. When he met Ned Leeds, the little kid who just might like Star Wars more than him. The kid who understood all his Firefly references. His best friend.

He lost his self-esteem when he was 11. When Flash Thompson became a haunting name, a taunting voice, another demon under his bed. When he realized how much of a freak he was. Every little imperfection became a target. He'd lock himself in the bathroom and stare at himself for a while, imagining ways to become the perfect human being, someone no one would ever make fun of.

Someone he'd never be.

He lost the will to fight when he was 12. When he was just so mad. So fucking angry because what right did Flash have to attack him the way he did? Why was Flash so much better? Why did Peter always have to be the better kid?

He wasn't ashamed when he threw the first punch.

No, the shame came later. When he was in the car with Ben, who wouldn't even look at him.

"I'm just really disappointed in you, Pete."

So Peter never fought him again.

He lost Ben when he was 15. When a pathetic and angry teenager suddenly became so much more -- a freak, an anomaly, a superhuman -- and still couldn't do enough to stop his uncle from bleeding out in a dirty alley. Only hold a tiny, shaking hand to the wound and whisper promises already broken the moment they left his mouth. Watch the light leave his eyes.

He lost himself after that. He was so tired of being sad. So tired of losing. Tired of being the world's punching bag, to see how long someone could live after their heart's been ripped to shreds.

Then it got better.

He lost his hopelessness when he put on the suit. When he flew through the air and let the wind run through his face, saving people and having a purpose. It felt like heaven.

He lost his hatred when he went to Germany. When he started being mentored by Tony Stark. When the world finally decided to throw him a bone. His hero. His entire life, his idol, his everything, had seen something in him, enough to want to train him to be better. And Peter swore -- swore on his life -- he would be better. If not for himself, then for Tony.

Always for Tony.

And everything was finally okay again. The world was back in order.

Then it wasn't.

He should've known it wouldn't last. Of course, because how could he ever be happy?

He lost his life. Reduced to ash, just as Thanos had wanted.

Peter Parker was dead.

Then he wasn't. But he'd rather lose a thousand of his own lives if it meant keeping what he had lost instead.

Because he lost his second chance.

He lost his mentor.

He lost his hero.

He lost his everything.

And nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever hurt worse. Worse than Flash. Worse than his parents. Worse than Ben.

Nothing could have ever prepared him for the loss of Tony Stark.